


If Brokenness Is a Form Of Art, I Must Be a Poster Child Prodigy

by Nugg



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Angst, Anxiety Attacks, He needs akira to comfort him in his time of anxiety is that so much to ask, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Rain, bad memories, ryuji is a mess and he loves his mom okay?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-05
Updated: 2018-09-05
Packaged: 2019-07-07 03:57:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15900420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nugg/pseuds/Nugg
Summary: Tonight, however, he wasn’t necessarily enjoying the rain. He was dreading the dark clouds showing through the city smog, pleading towards the sky for them to go away.Tonight, he was alone.





	If Brokenness Is a Form Of Art, I Must Be a Poster Child Prodigy

     The vibrant billboards cast wonderful reflections into the slick asphalt of the worn down roads. Rain so heavily pouring, feet splashing in puddles as those who forgot umbrellas dashed quickly to their next destination. Others continued on with their normal duties under the coverage they had. 

     When it rained, Ryuji liked to listen to it. 

     Opening his window that probably needed a screen, listening to the downpour. The background sound of water droplets from the leak in the ceiling mixing in. Loud, even though the bucket was placed outside his room, the only way they could fix It without costing them money they didn’t have. 

     Tonight, however, he wasn’t necessarily enjoying the rain. He was dreading the dark clouds showing through the city smog, pleading towards the sky for them to go away. 

     Tonight, he was alone. 

     His mom had been gone for a week now, visiting his grandparents hours away. No cell service, no way of contact with her son, and three days later than she’d thought she’d be home. Leaving Ryuji to himself and his worries, expecting the daily phone call from the only telephone in the house, to tell him she’d be there one more day. 

     Except he hadn’t gotten one today, checking his phone constantly. Ignoring the group chat that went a mile a minute, and waiting on the terrace to see the familiar car pull up on the street. Extension cord stolen from the television to keep his battery high at all time, trying not to get himself all tight in case of a text or call. 

     It wasn’t like his thoughts didn’t get to him though, the wind hurting his face in the cooled down air. Jacket pulled tight, and hoping she didn’t get into an accident. Praying that something didn’t go wrong, that she was okay, and just couldn’t reach him at that moment. 

    He felt selfish for being so anxious, to be overthinking on something his mom was enjoying. He was putting off calling his grandparents in hopes he didn’t miss any messages. To not take away from the well deserved fun time she was having.

     But the phone shaking in his hands had gotten too much. And the occasional ping of Akira asking him if he was okay had been overwhelming, finding their number in his contacts, and blindly tapping it. 

    “Hello?” He’d recognized the frail voice even if he hadn’t heard it in years. 

     “Hey,” Ryuji tried to stop his leg from shaking, “Grandma, it’s Ryuji-“ 

     “Oh! Hello sweetie! How have you been darling? We miss you so much here!” She cooed, and he smiled despite the pit in his stomach. 

     Leaning back in the old chair weathered by time outside, he closed his eyes, “I miss you too. And- I’m actually doing pretty good grandma. I’ve got some new friends-“  

     Her grin could practically be seen through the phone when she interrupted again, “Any girlfriend yet? You’re so handsome, I’d expect  girls would be falling at your feet.” 

    “No…” he thought quickly to the wisps of black hair that constantly tickled him, and steel grey of eyes that could take him deeper than ever before, “Not exactly.” 

    Clearing his throat, he got back to business, “Uh, has my mom left yet?” 

     “Yes, I’d say…” she clicked her tongue, “Around eleven this morning? Is she not home yet sweetie?”

     “No.” He didn’t want to unnecessarily worry her with the panic rising in him, “But I’m sure she’ll be here soon. I’ll call you back when she gets here, I was jus’ checkin’” 

    They’d said a slew of goodbyes as per usual, and he’d quickly hung up before he could rush back inside to not let the whole world know he was freaking out. Gripping his hair in frustration and anxiousness while pacing around helplessly. Trying another call quickly to his mom once more before he’d really begun to lose it. 

     Ryuji was met with a dial tone, and his whole world came crashing down. Mentally counting the hours that had gone by in the time she’d left to right now. Sinking to the floor in his state, and fighting all ways of giving up by hunching into a ball in the middle of his living room. 

    His mind began to flood with everything bad that could’ve happen. The constant shout in the background telling him he was overreacting had sent him over the edge, and he was already on his phone again by the time he’d even caught up with his shaky fingers. 

    “Akira.” He breathes into the speaker, exasperated beyond belief, “I- she’s not home yet- I- I can’t. I’m freakin’ the hell out and I  _ can’t- _ “

    “Hey, hey, calm down Ryuji.” The voice on the other end immediately soothed his aching chest, “What’s wrong?” 

    Through a broken sigh, he’d sworn he’d pulled up the carpet with his nails, “My mom- I wasn’t worried until I called my grandma ‘Kira. But- but she left  _ hours  _ ago and she still isn’t back yet. What- what if somethin’ bad happened!?”

     He’d heard a bit of rustling on the other end, “Just, try to stay calm, okay? I’m coming over, and I’ll be there as quick as I can.” 

     Normally, he’d fight the attempt, telling him it was unnecessary, but his quivering lip could only beg for the comfort. Phone shaking in his hands as he nodded, “O-okay. Thank you.” 

     Nothing could busy him in the condition he was in. Huddled on the couch, shivering despite feeling overwhelmingly warm, blocking out anything and everything in a weak attempt to stay calm. 

     If he’d lost his mom, he really had no idea what he’d do. What would happen to him, where he’d go, how to survive without the anchor that had been there grounding him through it all. Chains of unconditional love so strong through the rough seas of what they’d both been put through. 

      The possibility of never feeling her kind touch, delicate fingers sifting through his hair. To never watch the scar on her wrist from his father particular bad night stretch when she bleached his roots for him. Hearing her light and airy laugh when they’d gossip together, or when they’d watch trashy reality shows and poke fun at the characters. 

      She was there for everything. Even after he’d ruined their lives, she was there to hold him through the nights where sobs wracked his body. So distraught at his own tears and thoughts, unable to breathe correctly. To give him the encouraging smiles every morning as a way to get him though another school day full of horrible whispers. 

       Of course he’d loved her, as most kids do to their parents. Seeing his friends circumstances had made him value her even more, to know not everyone was able to have someone like her in their lives just about killed him. 

       A small amount of pressure was lifted when she’d taken the liberty to invite all of them over for dinner one night. Hearing about what had recently happened with Haru, and about Yusuke and Futaba’s own mother’s, she jumped in. Swearing it was  _ just  _ an appreciation meal for helping him out of his slump. 

       Ryuji was sure she knew they were Phantom Thieves from just how circumstantial everything was with them. The small knowing look he’d gotten when he’d give an excuse to where he was going. Her nods of understanding when he was gone for hours at a time, sometimes just coming home for a change of clothes to only disappear again. 

      The way her eyes (that he was  _ so _ glad he’d gotten in the gene pool)  crinkled at his stories of hanging out with the group. How many times she’d asked him about things, the countless ways she was genuinely interested in the answers. He really couldn’t have asked for a better mom. 

      And before he could get any more damaging thoughts in, he’d perked up from his ball. The sound of the door opening behind him, and the small amount of hope that coursed through him. 

      He’d scrambled to his feet upon seeing Akira standing there, face twisted in concern. Brows kneaded close together as the little drops of water dropped from the one piece of hair that hung low on his forehead. 

      Ryuji swore he’d never cried so quickly when he fell into Akiras arms. Salty tears mixing with the soaked in rainwater on his jacket, collecting the pieces that had broken apart right in his embrace by holding him close. Chin buried in the straw-like hair, familiar smell of coffee and generic bathhouse soap like home to the blond as he let it out. 

     Crying was a last resort for him. The hardness he’d forced himself into for all those years stuck. Stone expression, no waterworks, it’s how he lived for so long, it was normal to feel cold in bad situations to him. 

     His vulnerability was one of the most private things about him, and it sucked to have Akira witness it under such shit circumstances. To see him sob into his chest, red eyes so puffy, breath hitching every so often. It wasn’t pretty, and Ryuji felt like an asshole for putting him through something like it. 

     “I’m sorry.” He was able to choke out through an awful set of tears. 

     Akira shook his head, “You don’t need to be.” 

     Looking up through watery eyes, Ryuji sniffled at the raindrops on Akira's glasses, wanting to reach up and take them off. Hands still shaky enough to tell him that wasn’t the best idea, he took to clutching the damp fabric of his jacket instead. Listening to the steady heartbeat of someone he loved dearly to take away all the fear, to calm his nerves. 

     “Are you okay?” He asked him, pulling back slightly, not realizing the small panic that rose through Ryuji when doing so. Desperately clinging onto him, his support wavered, and he was fearful. 

     Another bout of tears slowly trickled down his already stained cheeks, and their hands automatically slotted together, “No.” 

     “That was a silly question.” Akira commented, slightly nudging the boy wrapped around him in a wordless way to tell him to follow. 

      Their hands stayed interlocked as he pulled Ryuji towards the sliding glass door. Glancing back at shaking mess behind him for a moment before peering out into the darkness. 

       “Where you out there?” He asked, looking back to see Ryuji using his T-shirt as a tissue, watching a half hearted nod before taking his gaze back, “It’s cold out.” 

       Looking to the ground, and following the extension cord out the door, Ryuji grimaced, “I know. I was just waitin’ for her.” 

       Akira turned to face him again, light smile playing on his lips, just as warm as it had ever been. He’d dropped their hands to smooth back the disorderly bleached hair plastered on his face. Fingertips dancing along the peach fuzz, and a flat palm finding its place in resting on his cheek, still damp from tears. 

      His thumb swiped across the soft skin gently, “How about I make some hot chocolate hm? We can sit out there and wait together.” 

       Words weren’t possible with the tightness in his throat, granting a nod in response. They’d parted, and he grabbed a blanket, wanting to be as close as he could possibly be. Taking the small plastic couch with an old worn out cushion and pushing it towards the balcony. Still feeling the chill of the rain, and shivering at the warmth seeping from inside. 

       It wasn’t his fault, and he knew that well enough. But he couldn’t help but to feel weak and stupid, letting his guard down so low. Calling Akira over in a storm, and begging for comfort, he’d felt extremely dumb. 

       The lull of the rain blocked out and coherence he’d had left. Idly waiting on the seat for the other side to be occupied by a walking furnace, wracking his hands in anticipation of a hot cup. Trying his best to leave the rotting thoughts in the back, and looking towards the distant buildings that lit up the sky. Each skyscraper defined in tiny twinkles, streetlights helping their glow. 

       A hum could be heard behind him, Akira pushing the door open with his foot. Coming out into the terrace with some on the spot song stuck behind his lips, cups clinking together as he walked. Swaying back and forth upon handing Ryuji one, soft grin still on his pale face, most likely never faltering between their last interaction. 

       He took his rightful place next to Ryuji, making sure to press close when the blond reached down. Settling into the comfort of the blanket being placed over them, and listening to the downpour with his eyes closed. 

        “M’ sorry I’m such a baby.” Ryuji spoke into the stilled air between them. 

        Akira wiggled his toes against Ryujis and caught his attention with an unamused face, “You’re allowed to feel bad, you know.” 

     A gust of wind blew through the two, rustling Akiras hair that was barely visible. Blending in with the dark landscape, only highlighted by the yellow glow from inside. Even in appreciating how nice his boyfriend looked, it didn’t make him feel any better.

    The thought from earlier had come back again. Remembering back to a particularly hard smack to the face when he came in crying after falling outside. His dads harsh words,  the tears stinging his eyes nothing against the the stinging of red blossoming on his cheek. 

     It took a couple more instances for him to stop becoming emotional. Completely removing feeling from anything, getting yelled at constantly, like the absence of any sentiments the time he’d been shoved in the dirt, the searing pain in his ankle from over working at track practice. He wouldn’t cry, only muddling through, wars raging on inside his head constantly, screaming at him to feel the pain. 

     Coming out of such traumatic experiences, it was incredibly hard to know that he could let go. The feeling of dread filling him more often than not in situations where most would react emotionally. Ryuji knew that for the rest of his life, crying would make him feel like garbage. 

     “I ain’t ever used to it bein’ okay.” He watched his breath ripple the hot chocolate in his cup. Finally feeling less cold with his hands wrapped tightly around the ceramic mug he’d bought his mom years ago from a thrift store as a present. She loved it, even if it was just plain yellow, it was something he’d thought of for her, and she cherished it. 

     Trying to catch eye contact in the dark, he hadn’t noticed Akira had taken his glasses off. Pressing his cup to his mouth and taking a sip, so comfortable with the world. Casual, uncaring about how crappy the neighborhood was, how often you’d hear loud music and voices boom throughout the barely lit streets. 

     Akira wouldn’t ever understand where Ryuji had come from. And frankly, Ryuji really didn’t want him to. The less he knew about the visible scars on his skin, about how rough life really was for him, the better. 

      He knew what he had gone through, and tried his best to adapt, giving it his all to ignore the holes in the walls. Often voicing how much he adored Ryuji really tipped the scales in the amount of genuine love he’d felt for him. To push aside all the wrongfulness of his life and look at the good just for him, it had made Ryuji's heart swell at how much effort he always put in. 

      Lanky fingers slinked into Ryuji's own calloused ones, “I know, it’s hard. But you’ve come a long way from the past.” 

     A few drops of rain hit them, “You’re your own person.” 

    Old wounds still hurt when you poked at them, and he’d felt a stinging sensation in his heart. 

    “What if she doesn’t come back, Akira?” He twisted his head, squeezing the calming hand tangled with his. 

    Akira squeezed back, “Look at the weather, she probably got held up, and is unable to call.” 

     Simple words eased his nerves when coming from his boyfriend. Setting his cup down to scooch closer, cheap plastic of the chair digging into his leg upon settling in with his head in his lap. 

     Akira was probably the best thing that had ever happened to him. Closing his eyes into the fine-trimmed nails raking in his hair, feeling so calm under his touch. Love felt great. And he was glad he’d finally gotten the chance to feel it with someone so fantastic. 

    Someone, who had a horrible past just as him, and was able to prevail. They were a perfect match, even if sometimes Ryuji didn’t feel like he deserved him. Placing Akira on such a high pedestal, when he was standing so low to the ground was difficult. But, when he was pulled up to be next to him, everything stilled, everything was perfect. 

     “Thank you.” He whispered, hoping the wind would carry it up to his boyfriends ears. 

     He stopped his fingers, “I’d do anything for you.”

     Ryuji reached up and set his hand atop Akiras, despite the awkward position of it all, he just wanted to hold what made him feel wonderful, “I could say the same thing.” 

      As he held his whole world in his hand, he knew he wasn’t just saying that to return something sweet. Because, as with anything he’d ever said to his boyfriend, it was genuine. Pure, unadulterated, and so,  _ so  _ real. 

      Back when Akira had returned from the interrogation, bruised, bleeding, and sore all over. It took all of Ryuji not to punch something in the anger he’d built up. To see how broken down the person he loved was, hurt him more than he had ever thought it could. He was pissed, ready to scream his feelings from the rooftops to get rid of the accumulated rage. 

      When wrapping Akira tightly in his arms, and letting the sobs take over, he wanted to do so many things he knew he shouldn’t do. Because in that moment, all that mattered was the frail body, shaking so much in their embrace. He needed to be there to wipe away the tears that rolled into the sharp cut on his cheekbone. 

      Doing anything for Akira, included doing what was right. And shoving away his fury in favor of comforting the person he’d die for mattered most. Watching in agony as he came apart within Ryuji's own hands.

     Battered, and heaving through all of the pain from his injuries, clutching his stomach in misery. All he could do was sit and be the therapy he’d desperately needed. To murmur all the things he loved about Akira as a way to put him in the most comfortable sleep he could manage in his state. To hold him and reassure him when he awoken from a terrifying dream. 

     It was worth it. 

     Akira twisted a longer piece of bleached out hair on his finger, staring off into the beautiful night of the city, and loving the weight in his lap, “I love you, Ryuji.”

     Some building twinkled in the distance, blobs of yellow blending in with the beeping reds from the telephone towers. Traffic echoed from their busy streets, far away sounds of jets and helicopters overhead. Ryuji's rapid breathing from an unwelcome anxiety attack had died down, the rise and fall of his chest calming them both. 

      “I love you too, Akira.” Ryuji had twisted his head back, grinning at the quirked up lips above him, and welcoming the small peck he’d received. 

      Before they settled back down, the phone Ryuji had forgotten about pinged. Grabbing it, and catching Akiras eyes, biting his lip to hide the nervousness coursing through him. 

 

**Mom** : Sorry sweetie! I stopped somewhere due to the storm. Should be there soon xx 

 

     “See,” He was poked in the face, like it was a button made to make him giggle, “She’s okay. You’re okay.” 

     Ryuji tried to stop his beam, uncontrollable through his laughs, “Aye- don’t you dare-“ 

      They both couldn’t control their laughter when Akiras fingers found Ryujis sides. Tickling him until he was half off the chair, face red, and their voices carrying off down the street. 

      The rain had fell into a trickle. And for once that night, he was able to enjoy it.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for any spelling mistakes, I just got this idea randomly and didn’t have it beta’d


End file.
